Odes
by The What-If Writer
Summary: Sometimes lonley thoughts are the best way to figure out some things. Sometimes your views on something, or someone, are vague. Thought Drabbles; Contains OCs and Canon characters; no pairings. Connected with 'Lifeforce' 'The Villain Vows' and 'Dreading Downfall.'


_ARLIGHT. EXPLANATIONS. This has OCs, but also canon characters._

_'Lifeforce' has kinda fallen flat. So I decided trying to tell my story and characters a different way- with their connections and views to other characters (canon) and vice versa. You may have to guess which canon character they are talking about sometimes. I will still continue Lifeforce as best as I can._

_Characters basics so you can understand:_

_Fergus the lombax- Childhood rival of Percival Tachyon._

_Daveed- a little lombax, friend of Kaden, close friend of Fergus and Ickabar and Leo. Around 15 in this scene._

_Ickabar- Tachyon's younger foster brother, a lombax._

_Leo- a former Pratorian Lombax Guard and comrade of Alister._

_Raymas- a green, reptilian humanoid that is Tachyon's older foster brother. Also raised by the lombaxes._

_Phobose- a little cragmite child, nephew of some ruffians that annoyed the Emperor._

_Trisby- a small cat-like being that aids Ratchet and Clank against the Loki, Nefarious and Tachyon when they team up. Appears in 'Lifeforce'._

* * *

Odes

It's a strange rivalry. Sometimes Fergus wonders if the cragmite sitting opposite him hates him as much as he thinks, or vice versa. The lombax is uncertain if they are truly different.

He doesn't listen to the opinions of others seriously. They are all naive and oblivious to him, but his rival isn't.

Perhaps in a way, Fergus thinks he understands.

Maybe, a small part of him hopes so.

...

Ickabar always smiled. Sometimes it drove him to the point of total annoyance; his irritated mind steaming over whenever he glanced at that smile in a moment of anger. But the fact was i was always there, like the sky above his head; as pure as the clouds.

Tachyon could not remember that smile. It is a blur of something he isn't true; melted snow revealing the desolation beneath.

...

Kaden feels a strange sense of calm. He'd grown up thinking that this moment would be full of fear- or blankness. That all he'd feel was everything _not _feeling. But, as the air leaves his lungs, never to return, he feels warm and peaceful.

He can see his wife. His mind is as clear as the sand once was. His son was still alive.

He had won.

...

Leo would watch Ickabar and Percival from afar. He worked near the canyon; it was a priority to make sure no one strayed too near the precarious edge of the road, lest they tumble to their tragic death. He'd peer from where he worked, a wrench in hand, glancing up once in a while.

Sometimes he caught that expression on the cragmite's face; as Ickabar balanced along the stepping-stones near the edge. Not the usual rebellion scowl; but the slightest hint of worry. Leo wondered if those widening eyes and sudden turns whenever Ickabar wobbled on his balance where.

They where the closest thing to care he- or anyone else for all time- would see from the cragmite.

...

Raymas promises himself every morning that he'll tell his cragmite brother the truth that afternoon, that night. The words, nor the moment, ever come. There's always a reason not to. Some guilty, selfish part of him feels that he has all the time in the world; in the universe. It's not like one day he'd suddenly vanish and he wouldn't be able to tell him.

He doesn't want Percival to hate him. He doesn't want to hurt him.

...

Alister would see Leo wandering alone sometimes. He himself wasn't a friend. They where acquaintances; comrades in the military. But Leo had left.

The stark contrast was noticeable as they passed each other; white and dark. Leo glances his way. There's something hard and gentle, pure and heavy in his gaze. Alister retorts with a frown. He didn't know what bothered the other lombax, but he always had this notion that the darker felt he knew better. That he was wiser.

Alister made his own decisions. He didn't listen to anyone's advice.

...

Kaden and Ickabar would find themselves talking for hours. They barely knew each other; they passed sometimes in the street or in the Council Building. But when the taller lombax had suddenly ran into him and began speaking of the strange beings and theories he made, Kaden felt something connect.

Alister was his best friend, but he hadn't the same interest as Kaden did in the Zoni, or the theories of the Great Clock. Ickabar spoke of ghost-like beings that thrived from energy and atmosphere. They compared their runes, the Fongoid lore. They would be startled to find that both the Zoni, and the Fabled Thora, where fond of a the pale, icy blue colour.

...

Daveed remembers his sister's wedding. His body is stiff; his legs are like air. His numb gaze, half-lidded, stares upwards, and all he can think of is his sister's wedding.

He'd been happy for her. The man she married- smallish and kinda dorky in Fergus's opinion, was a friend. He reminded him of Ickabar. They were forgot to be scared.

He wishes could have held his nephew one more time before the attack. He knows he won't ever see him again.

...

He was brave to hide tears with laughter. Raymas had not seen them, truly, neither had Percival. To most, he was a comic character; an annoying ruffian who was clumsy and oblivious. But behind the façade that made so many people laugh; so many people forget their own tears, there was someone weeping.

Ickabar didn't know why his race seemed to hate him. He hadn't asked to be born with a strange colour, nor the inability to stand still and build mechanics.

Sometimes he envied his brothers. At least they where free. Alone, but free.

...

Ace despised it.

Even Vox had said it; the thoughts circling in his head like a vulture. The prison bench is hard against his back as he lay staring at the ceiling. Zordoom offers no escape; the walls don't let him block out the memories.

Ratchet was just like he was, and he couldn't deny it in the end. He had no bravado, no weapons, no great deeds people _cared _about anymore. He had been like Ratchet, but Ratchet had been better. He'd resisted, and Ace had not.

Suddenly the walls and the bars didn't seem so harsh anymore.

...

Dinkles is unsure of the world, of what his mind has become. Various strange words like 'mutation' and 'genetics' spin around him as he watches. He hadn't deliberately been changed like some of the creatures the Loki tested on.

What's the point of being given a mind, intelligence to answer your questions, when all you do is ask more?

Why does he do these things? Why do any of them?

Spogg had said it was 'just his nature'. Nature had nothing to do with killing for fun. At least, not the way the Loki did it- or the cragmite. Or anyone.

Dinkles wonders what these people are thinking when they call the creatures below them .savage animals.'

The Loki would talk to him sometimes; there where he was imprisoned in the back of his own mind. He didn't know why. Perhaps for once he liked having someone who listened. He never stopped telling people things.

Dinkles noticed that his 'creators' words weren't as harsh as they could be. Sometimes he even explains things. Sometimes he answers his questions.

...

Ratchet wondered who he had invited into the team. Trisby was a strangle little being; bitter, resentful; her species completely unknown to him. The way she grinned when holding the blade; twirling it as if admiring a flower. The laugh she gave when her enemies fell. He hadn't built up the nerve to ask her his question.

She knew how the enemy mind worked...a bit too much. Ratchet would never understand what was going through the heads of villains like the Loki and Tachyon. He stopped trying. But Trisby didn't seem disgusted, or surprised. She just shrugged it off.

Do you think a team member would leave if you asked them if they used to be a villain?

...

The Cragmite Emperor enjoyed the pain of his enemies. The screams of those he despised, those who had lied to him and dared think they could deceive him.

They had taken him and kept him like a pet; a souvenir of their victory so many years ago. They didn't have the decency to tell him the truth. They acted as if he had deserved it.

The rage stayed with him this day. Whenever he thought of them, it made his skin and blood boil like lava and flame.

This one was no different. But, he couldn't get rid of him. He couldn't remove the image that evoked his rage. This lombax defeated him on his own; no army, just a tin can as a pack-back and a few gizmos. He couldn't regain control- the control he built up so carefully.

He hated feeling helpless.

...

Phobose didn't know what to think of the Emperor. He knew he had threatened his uncles; and that means he himself could be in danger. The little cragmite understood as much- if someone doesn't like someone important to you, they won't like you either.

They'll try to hurt you. Stay away.

But, the Emperor, cranky and angry as he seemed, had made no move yet to harm his uncles. Or him. He'd only caught his eye once; sharp pupils against light ones. And he'd seen no hatred.

He'd even dared to smile up at the Emperor once. Perhaps the small twinge at the side of his mouth had been a repressed smile in return- but Phobose hadn't caught on. It could have been amused; or mocking.

Perhaps this is what 'Nothing Personal' meant.

...

Clank still wonders where Orvis has gone. He glances up at the sky sometimes; imagining the Great Clock, rotating smoothly as the bells rang across space. A part of him likes to believe the strange little man is floating around in some other dimension, watching them and smiling in that wise, knowing way.

It made him feel better sometimes; that at least SOMEONE seemed to know what was going on in this strange universe.


End file.
